Dockside Romance
by ronny-of-yore
Summary: After the war at King's Landing, Arya gets ready to set sail and find out what's West of Westeros. She has the presence of mind to say goodbye to Gendry first and things happen.
1. Chapter 1

**Dockside Romance**

The day was overcast just like his mood as Gendry Baratheon stood on the slightly swaying docks with Arya Stark calmly poised before him. He had found it odd that she would use a random guard to summon him right before he left Lannisport instead of coming to him directly, but here they are. And with the scenery behind her, it was easy to figure out why. Gods, he wasn't ready for this. Would he ever be ready?

"You're leaving."

It's a statement not a question, because Gendry can plainly see the ship behind her with its able-bodied crew of men and women and dire wolf emblazoned sails. He was possibly never going to see her again and it hurt like the seven hells.

"I am," Arya simply tells him, and he watches her face remain as passive as ever as she adds, "We're headed to find out what's west of Westeros. I plan to map it all along the way."

_Why did I come here_, he thinks, _why couldn't I have refused?_ _She doesn't care. Maybe she never cared. Maybe she truly did use me just to cast me to the side like everyone else in my sorry life has._

But then she's speaking again and he hates his weakness, hates that he can't stop himself from hanging on her every word.

"I left Winterfell and came to King's Landing intent to kill Cersei. I intended to die to finish my list … but Sandor convinced me otherwise. His last words to me were to turn around and live. And this," A nod toward the ship, "is how I intend to do just that."

Gendry, wholly surprised by her words, could do nothing but silently nod in return. He knew she had left her home before the late Dragon Queen's armies had even begun marching south. And he had rightly guessed her reasoning why, but to think it was The Hound of all people who had talked some sense into her, had made her embrace life instead of stubbornly clinging to death. Even stunned, Gendry sent a silent prayer of thanks to the departed man wherever he might have ended up.

"But," Arya boldly continued, staring deep into his eyes and into his very soul. "If I'm going to start living the life that I choose, there's something I have to fix," After a steadying breath, her eyes slowly softened and so did her tone. "I rejected your proposal but I could never reject you. I can't leave here without you understanding that I love you and a part of me always wi-"

"Marry me!"

"What?" Arya was stunned and so was Gendry.

Oh, gods he had done it again, but he didn't care. Gendry didn't care. She was going to leave and he couldn't let it end this way. He couldn't let _them_ end this way, not after he finally knew that she truly loved him back! His words poured like a torrent of water from his mouth and his anxious heart and mind just let it happen.

"Before you set sail, let's take our vows. This way you can be free, I can keep my name and still get to be with you, and, while you're gone, they won't try to marry me off to anyone else! It's an agreeable situation for all involved and we can do it right now if you want. We can do it right now so that way no one can stop us!"

"Gendry, what are you-?"

"All I ask is that you come home to Storm's End to visit every once in a while, obviously when you're able, and maybe write to me, whenever you can, to at least let me know you're still alive. I mean, I'd love to hear about all your adventures and everything you find. There's got to be loads for you to find since no one's been out that way that we know of."

"Wait. Gendry, there're only seagulls at sea, not any ravens and-"

"Train a seagull. I don't care."

"—what if I die during my journey?"

"Then I'll be a widow."

"What about an heir?"

"If we don't have one, I'll just adopt an orphan and legitimize him or her if I have to."

"You're talking madness."

Already wholly committed to his hastily fabricated plan and stubbornly unable to let her go again, Gendry bellowed, "Madness is the two of us actually loving each other and not doing a godsdamn thing to keep us together!"

"But we won't _be _together," Arya shook her head, still trying to recover from her shock and yet still trying to make him see reason. "Not really. Do you really want that?"

Chest still heaving, but trying to calm himself down, Gendry gave a deep, serious tone. "I'll have your letters, your visits, and everything else in between. As long as your kisses and smiles are mine alone, that's enough for me. _You're _enough for me. I'm fine with it."

"You say that now," Arya angrily countered—completely feeding off his own chaotic emotions, "but you'll come to regret it."

"I _won't_," Gendry refuted, defiantly standing his ground.

"If you let yourself try, you'll forget all about me in time."

"Never."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I've never been more certain of anything in my entire life."

"But-"

"_Arya_," Gendry angrily cut her off. "You already told me that you love me and that's more than enough armor to ward off any words _you _or _anyone else_ could ever say to try to sway me otherwise. You're the only one for me. Deal with it. I already have."

"You are such a stubborn bull," Arya grumbled.

"So you keep saying," Gendry growled right back. "Marry me."

"You're impossible. You know that?" Arya accused, more than a touch exasperated. "Why are you so set on giving me freedom and restricting your own?"

"What you call restricting, I call happiness. I told you before, nothing I have matters if you're not with me." Eyes already starting to water, Gendry pleaded unashamed, "So, please, just—Gods just—whenever you can—I beg you, Arya, please… on your own terms, just be with me."

The broken look in Gendry's eyes reminded her of herself when she had said I can be your family so many years ago. She knew that feeling, knew how much it hurt, like fistfuls of salt being shoved in an open wound. She's doing this to him. This was her fault. Arya couldn't stomach the thought and her own emotions propelled her feet forward. Her chest hit his, hard, as she wrapped her body around his middle. She clung to him and he to her, like two lifelines caught up in a frothing sea.

"You don't play fair," She lamented with a face full of his robes as he gave her another tight squeeze. "You never have."

"I'm not sorry for it," Gendry whispered back.

"You made me fall in love with you as a girl and then again as a woman and now you say things that make me want to never let you go."

"Then _don't_," Gendry implored, his words muffled by the top of her hair. "Not really. Sail the seas and be free, but leave your _heart_ here with _me_."

"It's always been with you, stupid," Arya quietly admonished. "Always."

How long they stood together, wrapped up in each other for every guard and sailor to see, Gendry couldn't tell and he didn't care. However, it was Arya who pulled away first. Fortunately, she only pulled back far enough so that she could look up into his own tear-stained face.

"You know," She said with a red nose and a hoarse throat, "You know sometimes … sometimes you could come out on the water with us too I suppose."

"I could," Gendry agreed, hands cupping either side of her face, using the pad of a thumb to wipe the remnants of a tear from her eyes.

"And, you know," Arya added, bringing her own hands up to grip his wrists. "you could write me back and tell me all the boring stuff the Lord of Storm's End would be stuck doing while I'm out making maps and having fun."

"I would," he agreed, looking down at her soft expression and the red tinge of her lips.

"And I suppose we could celebrate every time I come hom—"

He sealed his approval with a long, slow, deep kiss; it was the kind that says everything words could never convey. When they finally pulled away, Arya dropped her forehead to his chest and gave a rather long drawn out tragic sigh. After a few heartbeats more, she finally pushed away with both palms to his sturdy chest.

"Well, alright then." Standing unsupported and actually feeling like it to boot, she scrubbed her face with her hands and gave him her answer. "You wanna do this? Let's do this. But I have to warn you, we'll have to take our vows and consecrate our marriage rather quick because this ship is already set for its maiden voyage."

Before she could change her mind, Gendry was already flagging down the nearest guard. "If you would be so kind, please have Maester Tarly meet us in the Captain's Quarters for a wedding."

"And who shall I say is getting married, my lord?"

Eyeing his wife-to-be, Gendry proudly proclaimed, "We are."

Arya watched the guard scurry off with a raised brow. "We're doing it on my ship?"

Meaning the wedding and the consummation, Gendry laughed. "That's a yes to both. And If the Maester takes his sweet time getting down here, we might be doing one before the other."

"Or we could just do the one thing twice," Arya shrugged unabashed.

Gendry returned her shrug. "I like your idea better."

"Thought you would," Arya smirked, before waving him aboard. "Come on then. I'll show you below deck."

In front of anyone who cared to watch, she smacked his bottom as he walked toward the plank leading up.

Gendry gave the smallest jump and a questioning look.

"What?" Arya said unapologetically back. "I'm the Captain of the ship and about to be the Lady of Storm's End. I can pretty much do with you as I please." Following behind him, she teased. "Not wanting to take back your proposal now are you?"

Gendry just laughed feeling freer than ever. "Never."

"Good," Arya smiled, leading him further into the bowels of the ship.

As they walked with creaking boards beneath their feet, Arya thought back to the words her lord father had once told her as a child.

_You will marry a high lord and rule his castle and your sons shall be knights, and princes, and lords._

Well, she mused, she was about to marry a high lord but Gendry wasn't just any man.

_Gendry will rule our castle just fine, father, while I rule the high seas._


	2. The Siege of Storm's End

**The Siege of Storm's End**

The guards, on either side of a large pair of double doors, take the brass knobs in their hands and provide entry to Ser Davos as he approaches. Inside the study, Davos' boots tread quickly upon soft carpet as he makes his way to his lord sitting behind his desk. The Lord of Storm's End looks up from his writing upon hearing Davos' approach and his brilliant blue eyes narrow.

"Something's happened, hasn't it?" Gendry braces himself for whatever news is thrown his way. It had to be bad for Davos to come striding in like he has with such a tense face too. "Go on," Gendry prods. "Hit me with it. Are we running dangerously low on something I've missed?"

Davos gives a concerned single shake of the head. "It's not so much that we're running low on anything, lad. I'd say It's more that we're overflowing with something at the moment."

"How do you mean?" Gendry askes, puzzled, while putting down his inked quill. Writing to Arya could wait if his people needed him.

Davos gives a sharp nod to the sea that could be seen outside the large window behind the other's broad shoulders. "There's a small fleet of ships spotted off the coast of Shipbreaker's Bay and they look to be headed inland."

This concerned Gendry, for he had not received any messages from anyone stating that he should be expecting guests anytime soon. Then again, a king or queen could send their ships wherever and whenever they pleased. "Is it the North or the South?"

"Neither," Davos shakes his head, equally perplexed. "From what I was told from the watchmen, they sail with a sigil no one's ever seen." Crossing his arms and using a hand to stroke his beard, he contemplates, "Could be from Essos. Maybe from Pentos or Myr? Even so, I have to be honest, the reason for their visit, if it is just a visit, escapes me."

Gendry contemplates for a moment himself, before a hopeful thought creeps into his head. It is a long-shot, but he so wants his thoughts to be true.

"Did the lookout give a description of the sigil?" Gendry slowly asks, thinking back to a certain someone's last letter he had received, admittedly, several moons ago.

_Please, gods, let it be…_

"Was told it was jagged black markings shaped like a hurricane and a single yellow circle in the midd—"

"Let them in!" Gendry suddenly cries, cutting Davos off, and standing so abruptly that when he does his chair falls right over. "Tell the men to let them all in!"

"What?" Davos cries back, thinking the man had clearly gone mad. "But we don't even know who they are or their purpose! It isn't safe to—"

"I know who it is," Gendry assures, chest heaving. "And I know their purpose."

"Well, share with the rest of us if you don't mind," Davos impatiently shoots back, almost at his wit's end. However, his anxiety is soon tethered as he takes in the look of absolute joy blooming on his lord's face.

"It's her," Gendry breathily remarks, features bright and shining with a light in his eyes that only she can create. "The Lady of Storm's End has finally arrived."

With Davos clearly shocked into silence, after another heartbeat, Gendry's elation falls from his face like a rock dropped in water. With a look of nervous anxiety, he turns to his advisor for support. "Oh, gods, wait. Ser Davos, is there anything I'm supposed to do? Anything I should say to the people of the castle first? I mean, they've never met her before. This is Arya's first time here after all."

Shaking off his stupor, Davos moves forward and gives the younger man a comforting pat on the back. "The only thing you need to do is go and say hello to your lovely lady wife. Don't worry, lad. We can stand on ceremony afterwards. I'll let the kitchens know there will be a feast tonight to welcome her home and then I'll join you."

"You are a _gift_," Gendry praises with a pat of his own to the older man's shoulder before quickly making his way to the room's exit. "I know I keep telling you that, but it's true!"

Davos merely shakes his head with a quirk of his mouth and a fondness in both his eyes and heart. King Bran may have set his post so many moons ago to help the new Baratheon along the way, but Davos had all but volunteered and, even now, he was glad of it. Gendry was a young lord and a previous bastard to boot, but Davos was sure it was his common upbringing and the fact that he was honest and truthful to a fault that made the people of the Storm Lands respect and honor their newly appointed lord. However, Davos knew Gendry could also be rash. _Rash indeed_, he thought as he too finally exited the room and made his way down to the kitchens.

To think Gendry had married the young Stark girl before anyone could even have thought to try and stop him. And he was proud of it too. So proud! Davos inwardly chuckled as he remembered Gendry's words to both her brother, King Bran Stark, and her sister, Queen Sansa Stark, before he had left King's Landing—after Jon had been freed.

"_So, your grace … and your grace, it would probably be best if you heard it from me since she's already gone. You see, I've married your sister."_

"_What?"_

"_Made her my wife, I did."_

"_But I thought she was going West of Westeros or wherever she plans to sail."_

"_Aye, she is."_

"_And you still married her?"_

"_Aye, I did."_

"_And she agreed to this? Arya did?"_

"_Aye, she did."_

"_Are you both mad?"_

"_Maybe a little."_

"_The Lord of Storm's end will be a fine fit for our sister, Sansa. You needn't worry."_

"_But—"_

"_Welcome to the family."_

Davos smirked as he recalled the frazzled look on Queen Sansa's usually regal face—the shock of it all and then the resigned acceptance. In the end, she too had told Gendry the same as King Bran, but her welcome was one laced with just a hint of skepticism. However, Davos felt she needn't have worried. It's been a little over 24 moons time and he had seen for himself how the Lord of Storm's End had stayed forever faithful to his lady fair … and she was finally home!

"And with a fleet!" Davos remarked loudly to himself in the hall just outside the kitchens—almost scaring the bones out of a young squire as he passed. With a pep in his step, he couldn't help but praise, "Princess, Captain, Assassin, Night King Slayer, Lady, and Wife. The many hats that girl wears. She's gonna be a legend."

* * *

The sun blazes low near the rim of the sea, painting the sky and land beyond in a brilliant brownish gold. The winds are fair as Gendry stands on the stone docks, hands clasped behind his back and wearing the same black outfit that he had worn for the first council meeting and his wedding thereafter so many moons ago. A ship is nearing his position. It isn't the ship he had watched her sail off in. It is older, weathered, and … huge; it has a marble statue of a naked woman's head and torso on its bow and Gendry can't help but want to laugh. However, any laughter dies on his lips as Arya quickly comes into view.

He watches her step up on the boat's railing with sure booted feet, watches her grab a hand full of line to keep her steady. However, she doesn't sway even once as she balances there on the rim of the bow. Instead, she stands tall and proud, like she had done it many times before. Gendry can't help but just take in the brazen sight of her. Hair like chestnuts left out in the sun cascades down her shoulders with little braids here and there; it looks windblown and salt-licked with the top part pulled back like it always had before. However, it seemed, these days she allows a bit of the left side to hang free over an eye. Gendry quite likes it, if he was being honest, for it adds that mysterious extra bit that plays well with the rest of her outfit that, to his rapidly beating heart, can only scream _pirate_. Truthfully, Gendry doesn't know many pirates but he'd heard the tales and this… Arya is the living embodiment.

Adorning her shoulders is a worn dark grey coat that reaches well to her covered knees and, below the outer layer, is a green undershirt that flaps open at the neck. She has a bit of black cord wrapped around her throat like a necklace and from it dangles a small metal wolf and stag. It gladdens his heart to see it there for he had hoped the small gift had made its way to her. But the necklace isn't the only thing on her neck and his eyes rove over the right side where a tattoo of a direwolf's face is displayed bold against her sun kissed skin. _Always a Stark_, he inwardly chides and then he takes in the familiar sight of Needle and her Valerian dagger ever in their place as they hang from the large, square buckled belt that keeps her coat mostly closed.

Ultimately, she looks wild and as free as the toothy smile she gives him before turning her head and bellowing, "Boatswain Garlus! Have 'em bring us about! There's a man standing on that peer that I've been needing to see!"

"If that isn't a picture," Davos muses as he takes up a position not too far away.

"You're telling me," Gendry murmurs as he remembers to breathe. "Can't believe I was fortunate enough to marry all … _that_."

"She's going to be the fiercest lady this land has ever seen," Davos remarks with pride. "You're going to be the envy of many a man, lad. Mark my words."

"That's fine with me," Gendry beams as he anxiously stands his ground and waits to finally greet the woman bravely jumping to the stone pier before her ship had even begun to dock.

"My lord," he watches Arya greet him with an exaggerated bow no doubt done entirely in jest. Righting herself and placing her hands behind her back, her features slide to business as she nods to the ships pulling in that take up most of the harbor. "I bring you our fleet. Well, they're mostly pirates that came under my command after I was forced to kill their Captains after a few disputes, but they're a good bunch of miserable old shits. Well, most of them."

"Did you rob said unfortunate Captains after you killed them?" Gendry calls teasingly with his smile ever present and feeling like it would be forever etched on his face.

"I guess you could say that," he watches her slowly consider and then simply shrug. "I mean, I did steal their boats, their men, their women, and all their buried treasure."

"You found _treasure_?" Gendry asks, clearly shocked.

"Oh, yeah." She sagely nods. After a breath, she adds, "Loads. So, I hope we have room in our coffers." Then her hands are coming up to dust imaginary dirt from her shoulders as she looks away and airily asks, "So, am I coming to you or are you coming to me? Haven't seen each other in forever and we are husband and wife now after all."

"How about you both meet in the middle?" Davos offers, highly amused.

"I quite like him," she tells Gendry and then she is quickly moving towards him and he towards her.

There are hoots, hollers, whistles and catcalls alike from her crew as Gendry bends her backward with the force of his deep kiss. She tastes of salt and, by the gods, spiced liquor and he can't get enough. But he is forced to let her go so they won't suffocate, and when he does, he whispers, "Welcome home, Arya," into her ear before he lets her up.

"I'm glad to be home," he hears her whisper back, not so much putty in his hands but clearly close. However, he watches her quickly regain herself before she pulls away. As she does, she takes the time to look around the entire port with wonder. "Beautiful place. I've always wanted to come visit when I was a girl."

"It's your home now," Gendry gently reminds, feeling warm and so much in love.

"That it is," She smiles and then casually asks. "Care to show me and the crew the way to the nearest kitchen? I don't know about you, but I'm starving."

Gendry's ears burn red as fire from the next shout of "Gotta feed her before you try putting a babe in that belly, lad!" he hears.

"That's 'my lord' to you!" Arya shouts back while giving the man-missing an eye and half his beard to an ugly scar-the middle finger. And then she is addressing the rest of her crew with a commanding voice that does things to Gendry that he will never admit. "Quartermaster Duggins! if you would be so kind, have all hands ready to disembark! Remind them that the booty comes first and the luggage later! But the spirits they can bring whenever they please!"

"Aye, Captain!" a grizzled man of an old age bellowed back and then Arya was turning round to her husband and his adviser again.

"Ignore One-eyed Karl," She sighs as she takes Gendry's arm and steers him away from the ship. "The rest of us do." Her features harden as she adds, "Don't worry. The blighters still loyal to the old ways of pillaging and raping we put to the sword. My crew only kills when we have to and I personally stick any that tries to put their parts where they're not welcome and maim those that try to steal what belongs to their friends. They're rough around the edges but they have their own morals and will die for me in a heartbeat and now they will for you too."

Her eyes soften as she adds, "So, all I ask is that you try to get to know them. After all, they already know a little about you."

Surprised, Gendry can't help but ask, "Do they?"

Arya gives a small laugh, "I mean, with all the letters I kept getting everywhere we docked, one of them was bound to ask who they were all from. And when one of them did, none of them would ever shut up about it. So, I figured it best that I told them the truth and … I told them all how much they'd like the bastard blacksmith who later earned a title and a castle but had never needed to win my heart."

Gendry was basically floating on air and agreeable to anything she asked at this point, but he meant his words when he said, "I'll get to know them. I promise. Every single one."

"My lady," Davos interjects as he follows at a distance behind the two. "If you don't mind my asking, is there a meaning behind the sigil?"

Arya begins, "Oh, well, that was—"

"My idea," Gendry finishes with a grin. "It's Baratheon colors and supposed to represent a storm. I thought she just needed something to put on a new sail for her own ship. I didn't know you were going to put it on an entire fleet."

"But why not just a stag?" Davos asks both, confused.

Arya is quick to answer. "I didn't want the symbol of any house on ships used for… Well, let's just say bad things. The new lands I've mapped are all extremely hostile to outsiders and that's why no one has ever returned. I had to do my fair share of killing and sometimes sacking so I didn't want to attach my true name to any of it."

"What does your shipmates call you then if not Baratheon or Stark?" Davos inquired.

Gendry is the one to answer that particular question, having found out himself from one of her letters. "They call her Captain Arya or The She-wolf of the Sea."

"That last one's quite catchy," Davos says, approvingly.

"I like to think so," Arya agreed and then she is turning back to Gendry. "You know, they all mostly wanted to come back and see my homeland for themselves. See what it was like here in Westeros, a place so far across the ocean no one believed it was real. But here they are."

"And here _you_ are," Gendry echoed, taking her hand with a squeeze.

"You know, no one ever believed it when I first told them."

"Told them what?"

"That I'm someone's wife and a castle's lady. I mean, most of them still wouldn't believe I had a husband until you were kissing me back there on the docks and I hadn't tried to slice your lips from your face."

"Have you had to slice many lips from faces?" Gendry asks, with just a touch of jealousy.

"Only a pair," Arya tells him true, "But he never got to actually touch me and he's dead now for trying." She cut sharp eyes to Gendry. "It doesn't mean you need to be concerned. I can handle myself. You know that."

"I do," Gendry nods, "But as your best friend and husband I'll always worry over you. I have that right."

Arya lets it be and Gendry is glad.

"Anyway," he pushes on as he leads her up the many stone stairs toward their looming castle, "they'll be a feast in your honor tonight to properly welcome you home."

"The proper welcome I want comes after that," Arya murmurs without looking his way.

Again, Gendry's ears go pink around the edges. _The balls on this one_, he thinks amused. "As my lady commands," is his murmur back.

Davos is the one to break the comfortable silence that follows.

"So, have you the mind to make copies of your maps and start any trading, my lady."

"Actually, I already have." Arya replies, quite proud. "It's how I've funded our journey back here. Two years gone tends to sap the coin purse after all. I've brought back items from Casis and Thymes that I think we can use here in Westeros and as for my maps... When I visit my king brother and queen sister, I plan to sell them at a nice price."

"You're not going to just give them to them?" Gendry asks, surprised.

"I could," Arya agrees, but then shakes her head. "But why when they're both royalty? They can afford anything."

"A woman after my own heart," Davos approvingly quips.

Gendry watches Arya look over her shoulder and address the older man behind them. "So, Ser Davos, tell me honestly, has Gendry been a good lord?"

"He's young," Davos tells her with the utmost truth, "But no longer wet behind the ears. He's done good by your people and they love him for it as I know they will come to love you."

Arya is quiet for a moment and Gendry has to ask. "Does it still bother you about being made a lady?"

"Not really," Arya admits, having had time to think about it all while she was away. "I mean, to be honest, I'm in a position where I can be however I want to be and no one can say a thing about it."

"Indeed," Davos sagely replies.

"No kidding," Gendry agrees with a laugh. "Who's going to say anything to Arya Baratheon, Lady of Storm's End, Princess of both the North and the South, Killer of the Night King and Savior of all Men, The First Explorer of the West, The Captain of the first Baratheon Fleet, and The She-Wolf of the Sea? Nobody, that's who. And if they even dared try, I'd have a hammer ready."

"Thanks," Arya smiles and gives his hand a squeeze. "It's nice to know that you would defend my honor."

"Even though you don't need me to, I would," Gendry assures her, and then he is asking the one question he knows he shouldn't but he still has to know. "So, how long are you planning to stay."

"Not sure," Arya admits with a sigh, "The crew wants to see Essos next."

"And you?" Gendry prods, trying not to show any bits of disappointment to ruin the mood.

"I won't mind going back," Arya shrugs, "But it'll probably be in my best interest if I stay away from Braavos."

"That's where the House of Black and White is, yeah?" Gendry asks, remembering everything she had written to him about losing her identity and learning to steal faces.

"I gave a name for a name to leave," Arya nods, "but I'd rather not press my luck if you know what I mean."

"I rather you didn't either," Gendry frowns. "I never did trust that Jaqen h'ghar."

"Anyway," Arya says with a roll of her eyes, "Our next destination will be Essos and as to when we head out, I don't know. My plan was to play it by ear and see just how long it takes before we all hear the call of the sea again. We'll see how it goes. In the meantime, I plan to make up for lost time."

"Anything in particular you want to do while your home?" Gendry asks, wanting to do all he could for her and _with_ her while she remained on dry land.

"Besides annoying you to the bitter end?" Arya teases and then shrugs. "Nothing much besides seeing my family. Oh, but you have to come with me when I do."

"There's another council meeting coming up soon," Davos helpfully chimes in. "If you attend it together, you can check off two of the three of your siblings, my lady."

"And sometime afterward," Gendry adds, already looking forward to it himself, "We can head up north to see Jon. Anything for my lady wife."

"It still feels strange to hear you call me that," Arya admits, making a face.

"What? My wife?" Gendry confusedly tosses back.

Arya bumps his shoulder with her own. "It's not a bad feeling though. Just strange. I'm sure I'll get used to it with time."

"Should hope so," Gendry teases, bumping her right back, "I mean, you're pretty much stuck with me now."

"And you with me," Arya happily counters, before asking, "Say, if I asked you to forge me something, would you?"

"I do still forge the odd item when I have time. Why?" Gendry asks rather puzzled, "What do you need?"

"I'd like to rip off that stupid statue on my ship and replace it with something else," Arya growls, remembering the salty perverted bastard it used to belong to and the watery grave she had sent him to.

"What would you want to replace it with?" Davos asks as they near the top of the stone steps at last.

"Oh, I don't know." Arya replies, still contemplating the one thing she still couldn't decide on. "I was hoping Gendry could surprise me."

"And I will," Gendry assures her, before addressing the two knights he had left standing by the guards whose job it was to watch over the great doors leading to their home. "Please send ravens to all the great houses and let them know the Lady of Storm's End has finally returned and let everyone along the way know that my lady wife has finally arrived."

"You don't have to do that," Arya groans, suddenly not looking forward to all that her new title will bring to bear.

"Yes, he _does_, my lady," Davos firmly replies as he stood on Gendry's other side.

"Don't worry," Gendry tells her as he nods thanks to the guards opening their way. "There are things we _have _to do as a lord and a lady, but you don't have to do them anyway but the way you want. If you want to, teach the women to fight instead of sitting and knitting, teach the men how to sail instead of staying on land, teach the children the truths about the lands you've seen and the grand things you've done, but most importantly, stay true to who you are."

His words touch something deep inside her and, misty eyed, Arya can only nod. Holding hands and finally crossing the threshold into Storm's End, Arya knows that it doesn't matter where she is. As long as Gendry is beside her, she is finally home.


End file.
